


An Antique Love

by mauvemacabre



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), Mushrooms, antique stores are a good place for horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauvemacabre/pseuds/mauvemacabre
Summary: A woman working closing shift at an antique store meets a strange regular.
Kudos: 1





	An Antique Love

STATEMENT OF Ruth Mendoza REGARDING an entity that frequented the Cat's Cradle antique store during her time working there.

STATEMENT BEGINS  
  
So I work at the Cat's Cradle antique shop—or well, worked I suppose. I'd work closing mostly, since those were the easiest to get that worked with my classes. And I definitely saw a lot of weird people. Antique stores just draw strange people in, I guess? I can't really blame them, we've definitely housed a few weird things before.  
  
But... I don't know what it is that drew them there. They didn't seem to have any specific interest, though they did occasionally buy something. I don't know why they were fascinated with me.  
  
The first time they came in I assumed they were a homeless person looking for shelter with the way they dressed. But when I asked if I could help them I saw they were wearing this really fancy respirator type thing, and had a pair of goggles on too. I couldn't see their face at all. They didn't respond verbally, just shook their head and went about looking at what we had in stock currently. They didn't even get anything that strange! Just an old teddy bear from the toy section, one of those creepy ones with a wooden head under the fur sure, but nothing inherently strange.  
  
Eventually it just kind of became... routine. They'd show up every once in a while, occasionally they'd buy something, always something worn down, normally old toys, and they'd never speak. None of others had seen them before as far as I could find. Tracy Herbert, my manager, laughed at me when I asked though, so I'm not sure if she actually lied to mess with me?  
  
Next time they came in I took a real good look at them though. Well, as good as I could since they kept themself so covered up. All I could really see was their hair, a tangled mess of brown waves that ended in green tips. The dye job looked old, faded, and the color almost reminded me of moss? But what really stuck as odd were the little buns they wore. They were stark white, though sometimes I thought I saw red on them when I looked, and they didn't look like hair, not really. They seemed to come from under their hair.  
  
I guess I caught their attention with my staring, because they brought an old doll up to the register and for the first time in six months I heard them speak. It was...um… "Work here alone?" I think is what they said. Their voice was so soft, so sweet. Something about it made me immediately relax in their presence. I stuttered out an answer that yes, I was the only one on shift at this time usually and they nodded. And then...and then they asked me if I lived alone, studied alone, felt alone. I don't know why I answered, it felt...it felt like I could trust them. When I said yes to pretty much all of their questions they reached out and patted my shoulder gently, I took note that they were wearing really thick gloves at this point, and said they'd be back. That...that I wouldn't be alone anymore when they were.  
  
I didn't see them for weeks and, get this, I actually felt disappointed. They were strange, sure, but I just assumed they were part of some weird subculture and that maybe for the first time in a while there'd be someone who cared for me. I lost my mother young, you see, and my father was always so distant with work and… I always was a little too strange to fit in in school.  
  
When they finally came back they didn't approach me at first, and went on their way browsing the store like normal. I thought they had forgotten what they told me and...and it hurt? But then they came back to the register with a book I hadn't seen us stock. It looked old, about mushrooms I think? I was surprised more because they had never bought anything like it before than because of the topic. Then they held out their hand and asked me if I would like to find a home—or, wait no. They'd asked if I'd like to be home. I couldn't stop myself from taking their hand, it just felt... right at the moment.  
  
They patted my hand and then...and then they reached up and pulled their goggles off and I was confronted with a single, black eye with the brightest gold for a pupil. I tried to pull my hand back, but they gripped it tight as they tugged the respirator off and in that same, sickly sweet voice said "Don't go, we're home now." There were...they looked like veins maybe? Stretch marks? That stretched from their mouth to the sides of their face. Their breath smelled like dirt and rot and I felt my stomach churn and the intense need to run but I also felt...safe?  
  
It started to feel like I couldn't move, like they were all I needed and all I could see. I didn't notice when their gloves came off, only the sharp pain in my palm as they grasped my hand between both of theirs and smiled. "You'll be part of us. We'll all be safe and loved, together," they whispered. Maybe it wasn't a whisper? Their voice echoed in my thoughts and made all of my muscles relax even as that pain in my palm began to creep up my wrist and arm.  
  
And then...and then the buns began to open. They twisted and split and out of them came these horrifying red tentacle-like things. It smelled awful…almost like rotting meat. And they were covered in this black goo and...and then they opened their other eye. Those...those things came out of it and reached towards my face as they leaned in closer. Finally I got the message to run and I screamed bloody murder as I bolted into the back room. The pain in my arm was almost unbearable as I ripped it away from them, but I locked myself in the back and waited.  
  
Someone must've heard and they called the police, but when they got there they were gone, along with the book they had grabbed. I got taken to the hospital when I told them about my arm, and it ended up having to be removed. Doctors said there was some sort of fungus in it. I quit the second I could and I'm never stepping foot into an antique store again, not if...whatever they are might be there. But at the same time, I can still hear their voice echoing in my head.  
  
That sweet, sweet "You're home.  
  
STATEMENT ENDS


End file.
